


Maybe Just the Birds

by nhpw



Category: Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-10
Updated: 2012-11-10
Packaged: 2017-11-18 08:49:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/559106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nhpw/pseuds/nhpw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally written for a prompt on the tronkinkmeme on LJ, asking for a story about Alan explaining the birds and the bees to Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe Just the Birds

**Author's Note:**

> I'm putting this in the "Gen" category because there is no relationship in this story per se. However, there are veiled discussions of M/M relationships.

**Age 7 (1990) – The Dance**

“Uncle Alan, why is the sky blue?”

“I don’t know, Sam.”

“Uncle Alan, how fast is a half hour?”

“A half hour is thirty minutes. You know that.”

“Yeah, but how fast is it?”

Alan closed his eyes and took a deep breath as they reached a red light. He loved Sam as if the boy were his own child, he truly did. But the kid’s inquisitiveness could be exhausting even if they hadn’t just spent the last two hours playing Frisbee and shooting hoops in the park. “One Ninja Turtles,” he said finally, glad when he glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Sam nodding thoughtfully. They rode in silence for a few blissful minutes.

“Uncle Alan, who invented the alphabet?”

Distracted by a station wagon that cut him off without signaling, Alan mumbled, “Sesame Street,” as he moved over and took the exit for Sam’s grandparents’ house.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

A couple of quick turns and they were rolling down Arbor Drive, headed for the house near the cul de sac where Sam was being raised by Kevin Flynn’s parents. Just as Alan stopped the car in front of the familiar home, Sam said, “Oh! Uncle Alan, did Aunt Lora have the baby yet?”

Alan’s eyes went wide and he stilled for a moment, hands going numb on the steering wheel, before he got a bit of wits about him. He turned in his seat, still fastened into his seatbelt, and faced the boy behind him for the first time since his barrage of questions began. “What?!”

“Joey Marcum said one day he saw his parents kissing like this.” Sam wrapped his arms around himself and moved them up and down while he made obscene French-kissing gestures with his lips and tongue in the open air. Alan’s facial expression turned to one of absolute horror as the boy stopped his demonstration and continued, “And then they told him he was going to have a baby sister. I saw you and Lora kiss like that a few weeks ago when you got up during the football game to go pay the pizza man.”

“Sam—I—It’s not—“ A warm blush spread all over Alan’s face and radiated through the rest of his body as he turned away from the boy and released his seatbelt. He had to take a moment to think because, fuck, what was he supposed to say? _This is a discussion you should have with your father?_ Right. Because Kevin Flynn had been gone for seven months, and it was highly unlikely he was going to magically appear right this second to explain to his son where babies come from. Finally, Alan let out a long exhale and turned again to face the boy, whose facial expression had crumbled from overtly curious to fearful. 

“Did I say something bad?” 

Alan sighed lightly in regret – of course Sam would ask that, and of course he would put on that pained face, the one that said _I’m really sorry, just please don’t leave me, everyone else in my life always leaves me, please Alan…_ “No, Sam. You didn’t say anything wrong. It’s just…” He gave a glance toward the home they were parked in front of before shifting, such that he was able to more fully face the boy for a longer period of time without causing himself too much physical discomfort. “You can’t get a baby just from kissing.”

“Oh.” Alan watched the gears turn in Sam’s head, and he braced himself for the inevitable follow-up question. “Then where _do_ babies come from?” 

“You see, Sam… when… when a man and a woman…” Love each other? That wasn’t always right. But for a 7-year-old, it might have to do. “When a man and a woman love each other very much, they… they have a special…” When Alan was a boy, his father had called it a “handshake.” That was so unbearably awful of an analogy that he had to think of something else, and he had to think of it _right now_. “They have a special dance that they do. And sometimes that… dance… makes a baby.”

“Do… you and Lora do the dance?”

Alan was pretty sure he wasn’t capable of blushing any deeper. The temperature in his car had clearly risen at least 10 degrees since he’d parked. “Sometimes,” he managed around a tight swallow.

“Then… why don’t you have any kids?”

He couldn’t meet Sam’s eyes as he answered. His heart sank and he bit his lip, struggling to hold his emotions in check. “Because it’s not that simple,” he allowed, tone quiet and introspective. “Sometimes it… it doesn’t matter how much the man and woman love each other or how much they do the dance. They just don’t have the chemistry…” a wrinkle of the eyebrows at that word and Alan tried again, “They just don’t have the science to make a baby together.”

“That makes you sad.”

Bless Sam and his awesome powers of observation. Alan glanced up, giving the boy a sad smile. “Yes it does.”

Sam nodded and looked out the window for a long time, and Alan thought maybe the conversation was over. But then Sam looked back at him, brow creased, and asked, “Can two men do the dance and make a baby together? Or two women?”

Alan chuckled, glad that Sam had taken the conversation in another direction, _any_ other direction – even this one. “No. I mean – two men can do the dance. Two women can do the dance. But they can’t make a baby. In order to do that, you need…”

“The science.”

“Right.” Alan nodded. Sam was smarter than he sometimes gave him credit for.

“How does the dance go? Can you show me?”

“No,” Alan said before the question was even fully out of Sam’s mouth. He shook his head vigorously. “No. No no no no. No, the dance is something you’ll do when you’re older. Much, much, _much_ older. It’s very personal and very private and. No.”

“It has to do with the parts of my body that are covered by my bathing suit, doesn’t it?” Sam nodded slowly, as if answering his own question.

“Yes. And you—you listen to what they tell you in school about people touching you there, OK? And if anybody does, you come and tell me or your grandparents or Aunt Lora or your teacher right away.”

“But why…?” Sam’s question drifted away and he went back to looking out the window. Another long, pensive silence, and Alan let himself draw a few deep breaths. Finally Sam said, “This baby thing seems pretty complicated.”

A full-on laugh now, mostly in relief, and Alan reached out to ruffle the boy’s soft curls. “It can be. Do you have any more questions?”

Sam stared at him for a long time, head cocked to the side. “Not right now,” he said finally, giving a shake of his head, and Alan said a silent thanks to the Almighty at that. “Maybe later.”

Alan nodded and climbed out of the car, and Sam did the same. Alan ushered him toward the house with one guiding arm, reminding himself to add this to The List he’d started compiling – the list of “you owe me” items he intended to present Kevin with when – if – he ever came home.

**Age 12 (1995) – The Fundamentals**

Sam looked at Alan.

Alan looked at Sam, and Sam looked away on cue.

Alan bit his lip.

Sam bit the cuticle on his right thumb, shuffled his feet. Sighed. Finally said, “Can I go home now?”

Alan cleared his throat and chanced a longer look at the boy. Sam was still dressed in his gym clothes – he hadn’t bothered to change after he’d been sent to the principal’s office and asked that Alan be called to come get him. That didn’t make any sense—well, maybe a little. Sam’s grandfather hadn’t been quite himself since his wife passed away three months prior. He cared for Sam, but… something was missing, and Alan found himself stepping up to the surrogacy plate more and more often. He didn’t mind, but he expected they were about to venture into one of those areas of conversation that made Sam regard him less as a friend and more as a father, and Alan wasn’t really a fan of those. Still, he wouldn’t shy from this self-appointed responsibility – if he wasn’t there for Sam, who would be? What would happen to him? “No, Sam. We need to talk.”

“I already said I was sorry.”

“You hit another boy.”

“Yeah, well, he was making fun of me.”

“For what?”

Sam blushed an impossibly deep shade of red and studied his fidgeting hands in his lap. They were sitting side by side on a low bench in the office of Sam’s school, and while Alan couldn’t find a comfortable position to save his life, Sam’s feet hit the floor just comfortably, despite his insistence to continue shuffling them about. The boy finally mumbled something Alan didn’t quite catch.

“Sam?” He rested a hand on the boy’s outer shoulder, but Sam wrenched away from the touch and scooted down the bench, out of Alan’s reach. He flipped through his memory banks, looking for sensitive issues another child might have brought up that would cause Sam to haul off and punch him. “Was it about your dad?”

Sam shook his head.

He honestly couldn’t come up with anything else. For a presumed orphan, Sam was amazingly well-rounded – one of the smartest kids in his class, funny, sweet, athletic… there was very little not to like about him.

“Mr. Bradley, I presume.”

Alan stood instinctively at the principal’s voice. “Yes Ma’am.” Principal Tucker was a large, commanding woman with a voice that Alan would’ve thought belonged to a man if he were speaking to the principal over the phone. But Alan kept that to himself because he was pretty sure Principal Tucker could sit on him and squash him like a bug if she was of the mind. He stuck out a hand and the woman shook it.

“Sam’s emergency forms do list you as a contact with the right to sign him out of school, so I relinquish him to your custody for the rest of the day. He may return to school tomorrow, provided he has learned to control himself.” She gave a pointed look at Sam, who scowled in response. “I mean it, Sam. Next time, it will be an in-school suspension. I don’t want to have to do that to you.”

“Whatever,” Sam huffed, pushing himself up off the bench and walking past the principal as though she wasn’t even there. He kept walking toward the door, only stopping to turn and look at Alan and say, “Now can we go?”

They did go, but Alan didn’t take Sam home. They went to the park, the one where Alan had taught Sam to throw a curveball, the one where Sam had fallen off the tire swing and broken his nose when he was 9 (nevermind that the reason he fell was that he was standing on the tire swing as it swung giant circles and he lost his grip on the chains.) They rode bikes here and had heart-to-hearts here. But today, Sam just shuffled to the swings and plopped down on one unceremoniously.

Alan sat beside him, rocking back and forth gently. “What gives, Sam?”

Sam shrugged. “I just want to go home.”

“What _happened_ , Sam? What you did today… isn’t like you.”

“Well, maybe I’m not who you thought I was.”

“Sam…?”

Sam made a growling sound that – Alan noticed – was a notch or two lower than the last time he’d heard Sam make that sound. A lightbulb was flickering slowly to life in his brain when Sam blurted, “I got an erection, OK?” and Alan’s lightbulb flared fully to life, causing his lips to part slightly in shock – mostly at Sam’s candidness. “Are you satisfied?”

“No! I mean—no, no, Sam… just… That’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” He tried again to put a hand on Sam’s shoulder, and this time the boy allowed it. “It… it happens when a boy gets to be about your age. It’s completely normal.”

“I know.” Sam had looked at him to issue his declaration, but now he looked away again, feet shuffling in the sand under his swing. 

Alan cleared his throat, realizing that he was going to have to explore this a little further, that maybe even though Sam had said “I know” he might not actually know everything, and it’s not like he had a father – or, hell, a mother – to fill in the blanks. “Do you, now?”

“They explained about it in health class,” Sam returned. He was now effectively making A Point of not looking at Alan. “Men get an erection when they… when they are aroused.” He squirmed uncomfortably on the swing. Alan pulled his lips tight and decided to tread carefully – Sam looked about ready to bolt.

“That’s right. And it’s… it happens sometimes without your permission,” he chuckled, toying with the chain of his swing. “Especially at your age.”

“Why?”

It was said with such innocence, just the right amount of pain and confusion, that Alan’s heart went out to the boy. He sighed. “It just does, Sam. It’s true for every man. Your body is… testing the waters, I guess. You see a pretty girl and your body has this new thing it can do, and it’s interested in that pretty girl and wants to express that interest and… it doesn’t always consult your brain first.”

Sam bit his lip and stilled, staring down at his lap. He opened his mouth as if to reply, but then closed it. Alan watched his profile carefully, still convinced that if he said the wrong thing, Sam would get up and run. When Sam did speak, it was a quiet whisper. “What am I supposed to do when it happens?”

“Well – you don’t hit people,” Alan couldn’t resist saying. Sam scowled at him and Alan gave a helpless shrug. “For you, right now at your age, you just kind of have to grin and bear it. If you’re at home, you can…” _Oh, hell_. “You can take care of it. You can make it go away by… touching it.”

“I know that,” Sam returned, and Alan felt like a dope – and extremely grateful that was the end of that tangent. “I meant in public. Why does it happen in public? And what do I do? And what do I do with it when I get _older_? Will it ever stop?”

Alan was past the point where these types of conversations with Sam embarrassed him, but one glance at the boy’s beat-red face confirmed the feeling was not mutual. He chanced a gentle pat to Sam’s knee. “Trust me, there will come a time years from now when it will stop, and you will wonder what you can do to make it get going again,” he responded with a chuckle, and Sam frowned deeply at him. “And a few years from now, it will all calm down, and your body won’t do it quite so much without your permission. And then you’ll start…” Alan cleared his throat. “You’ll start wanting it to happen, believe it or not. You’ll meet a very nice girl that you have romantic feelings for, a girl you care about very much, and you’ll take her out on dates, and you’ll kiss her, and then you’ll want to touch her and…”

“Do the dance with her.” It wasn’t said as if Sam was completing his sentence. The tone was about as sarcastic as Alan knew Sam to get.

“Ah. You remember.”

“It’s _sex_ , Alan. The guy sticks his penis inside the girl and they move around and eventually he has an orgasm and ejaculates inside her and if he doesn’t wear a condom, they might make a baby.” Alan’s mouth fell open and he stared at the boy, wide-eyed. 

“I—how—“

“I’m the orphaned son of a computer genius,” Sam replied, deadpan. “I have an open Internet connection in my bedroom.”

“I’ll have to talk to your grandfather about that,” Alan managed, and now he couldn’t help but notice they were both blushing. He hadn’t anticipated that matter-of-fact pronouncement from Sam, not in a million years. “As to your earlier question… when it happens in public, you can always excuse yourself to get up and go to the bathroom until it calms down. Isolate yourself, remove the temptation. Or you can think about something else, something other than what made you get the erection in the first place – something that you don’t find in the least bit arousing.”

“Like what?”

“When I was your age, I went for my gym teacher. She was…” Alan chuckled, considering. “Well. She was entirely unattractive.” 

“Like Ms. Tucker.”

“Something like that.” Alan nodded. “The point is to fill your mind with the thought of someone or something that has no emotional attachment. Something that will make your body forget what it was wanting before.”

Sam nodded and sighed. “Alan?”

“Yeah, Sam?”

“You told me once… that two guys can do the dance, and two girls can do the dance. They didn’t… talk about that in health class.”

Alan sighed and offered Sam a sad smile. “I know, Buddy.”

“Is that… is that because it’s not supposed to be like that? Because it’s bad? Because two guys or two girls can’t make a baby?”

“One thing you’ll learn… one thing I _hope_ you’ll learn – is that doing th—that sex isn’t always about making a baby. _When you’re older_ ,” he stressed, making sure to hold Sam’s gaze with this sentence, “you’ll figure out that sex is pretty fun and feels pretty good just to do. It’s fun for a guy and a girl who are in love, and it’s fun for two guys or two girls, and there’s absolutely nothing bad about that. But only when you’re grown up. Sex is for adults. Sex is… you are too young for sex.”

“I know.” A pause. “What about kissing?”

“What about it?”

“Am I too young for kissing?”

Alan gave the question a moment of consideration. “No,” he said at last. “But you shouldn’t kiss someone unless they want to be kissing you, too. And if… if someone else wants to, you can hold hands, and you can go out on dates, and you can kiss. It’s… actually a pretty cool part of growing up.” Sam nodded at that, and tapped his fingers on his knee, seeming a bit introspective – deeper than Alan had been at 12 years of age. “Is there… someone you want to be kissing?”

Sam shook his head and kicked at the dirt. “No. Not anymore.”

Alan was not a full-time parent, so sometimes his radar was a little bit off. It was flashing vaguely at Sam’s reply and he elected to follow it down its pointed path. “I’m sorry the other boy made fun of you.”

“It’s OK. Really.” Sam jumped down off his swing. “Can we go home now?”

“We should talk about this a little more, Sam.” He watched the boy’s shoulder slump, watched him kick at the dirt, and that dusty Parent Radar sounded ever so slightly. “Maybe later though, huh?” One arm slung around Sam’s shoulders. He noted that he didn’t have to reach down nearly as far as he used to in order to do so. “How do you feel about some ice cream?”

“I like ice cream.” They strolled toward Alan’s car, and Sam definitely had more bounce in his step than he had when they’d arrived at the park. “Is ice cream something people do for dates?”

Alan chuckled and ruffled Sam’s curls, and the boy leaned into the gesture a bit, warming Alan inside. Today… today had been a successful day. “All the time, Buddy. All the time.”

**Age 16 (1999) – Safety Net**

Lora was the one who discovered the condom in Sam’s wallet. It was an accident – Sam and Alan had spent the morning fishing, and Sam had come back soaked through to the bone because apparently he’d had a mishap and fallen off the pier. Lora had given Sam a pair of Alan’s old sweats – at 16, Sam was hitting his growth spurt and the sweats had shrunk a little and that seemed to balance out to the navy blue pants only being a little too big – and whisked his wet clothes down to the dryer. She’d checked his pockets – a habit more than anything, because Alan was always leaving change and paper and tissues in those things – found his wallet, pulled it out, bobbled it and dropped it, and it had fallen open-faced on the laundry room floor. When she picked it up, she’d noticed the condom, tucked behind several $20 bills.

“I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend,” Alan mused when she told him later that night. He raised his eyebrows and nodded against the pillow beneath his head. “Good for him.”

He’d been worried about Sam, actually. The boy hadn’t dated, not really, not to Alan’s knowledge. Now he thought maybe it was just that Sam never talked about it. 

But Lora said, “You have to talk to him, Alan. If he’s having sex, you have to make sure he knows how to be safe.”

Alan shrugged and turned to face her. “Sounds like he’s doing an OK job about that already.”

“My women’s intuition says that’s not for anyone specific.”

“Oh, you think he’s…?” Alan let his brow crease as he turned on his side to face his perplexed wife, propping his head up on one arm.

“Just make sure he’s not giving it away, all right? It’ll make me feel better.”

And so Alan was sitting with Sam a week later, fishing off the pier in front of Sam’s house – except that they weren’t really fishing. Well – Sam had his line in the water. Alan was fidgeting so much, it was a minor miracle he hadn’t fallen in. Finally Sam looked up at him and said, “You got something on your mind, Alan?”

Alan looked down at the teen and sighed, offering the tiniest of half-smiles. Then he eased himself down into a cross-legged position next to Sam – damn, that position wasn’t nearly as comfortable as it used to be – and said, “How are things going at school, Sam?”

“Fine,” Sam replied with a nonchalant shrug. “You’ve seen my grades.”

“Right, right.” Alan nodded. “Starting to think about college?”

“I figure CalTech. Why not, you know? They did right by my old man.” He gave a little snort and reeled his line in a bit.

Alan nodded at that, choosing not to explore Sam’s spite for his dad. “Good for you. You, uh…” He cocked his head a bit. “You thinking about going to prom? That’s coming up, right?”

“In a couple of months. I wasn’t really planning to go.”

“Oh?” Alan sensed his opening, but tried to keep playing it as casually as he could. “Why’s that?”

“Nobody to go with,” was the mumbled response as Sam concentrated hard on his fishing line. One tense moment and he pulled on it, then reeled it in hard and fast – pulling up a good-sized sunny a moment later. He held it up, inspected it, then freed it from the hook and tossed it back in the water.

“I see.” Alan bit his lip so hard it hurt – and then decided to just go for it. “Are you having sex, Sam?”

“Maybe.” A casual reply as Sam cast his line back out into the water. He focused on the gentle lapping waves – didn’t look at Alan at all. 

“But you said you didn’t have anybody to go with to prom.”

“I’m not _dating_ anyone,” Sam clarified, his tone implying that Alan clearly should have known that. “I just… hook up sometimes.”

“That’s dangerous, Sam.” It was a gut reaction, and as soon as it was out of his mouth, Alan regretted it – not what he’d said, exactly, but the way he’d said it. He knew it wouldn’t go over well.

Sure enough, Sam turned to him with a deeply creased brow and anger flashing in his eyes. “It’s my life,” he bit back. “And it’s none of your business.”

“It is so my business.” Alan’s body had tensed and his voice was rising. He didn’t want to have a shouting match with Sam – he never did, but it seemed those were coming between them with increasing ferocity as the years went by and Sam got older and started challenging his authority. They were headed for the inevitable, Alan knew it, and he wasn’t the least bit surprised by the next words out of Sam’s mouth has he quickly reeled in his empty fishing line. 

“Back off, Bradley. You’re not my father.”

_You’re not my father_. It was Sam’s trump card, one he’d never played with Alan until a couple of years ago, and now it seemed like he reached for it all the time. Every time he did, Alan’s heart hurt a little bit more. Except this time… this time, because he really was worried about Sam’s behavior, about his safety, it made Alan angry. 

“No, Sam, I’m not your father,” he repeated, and he barely recognized his own voice, it was so low and dangerous. “You know what? Fine. Do what you want. But do you know what’s going to happen if word gets out that you’re promiscuous? Huh? ENCOM will tank. That’s how it works. Whether you realize it or not, you are heir to a business empire, and in a couple of years, people expect you’ll take over. _I_ expect you’ll take over. It will destroy your father’s company, you will lose your inheritance, your stocks will plummet and you will be left with _nothing_.” Maybe he was being a little over-dramatic, but he didn’t care. The more he thought about what Sam might be doing, and with whom, the angrier he became. “So if you’re not willing to keep it in your pants for the good of your own health and safety, then I suggest you keep it in your pants if only so you can keep on living the kind of life you’re living because if you destroy this company, Sam, I will not be there to help you pick up the pieces.”

Sam stared at him, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, and Alan watched the boy’s face as his expression changed from one of anger to one of sadness and fear. It was a slow transformation, like the change from day into night, and finally, Sam turned his face from Alan’s and stared into his lap.

Alan bit his lip then, and he wanted to reach out and palm Sam’s shoulder, tell him he was sorry… but no. “Are you being safe?” 

Sam only nodded. 

“All the time? You keep a fresh condom in your wallet? Check the expiration date?”

“I use ‘em long before they go bad, Alan.”

“Jesus Christ, Sam.” Alan let out a long breath and stretched his legs out, letting them dangle over the edge of the pier. “Look, I’m… I know I’m not your dad, but I really… I care about you, Sam, and I don’t want you to get hurt. There are things out there, and there are people…”

“I already told you I use protection every time.”

“Condoms aren’t 100 percent effective,” Alan pointed out. “I don’t want you coming to me scared out of your wits because you got a girl pregnant when you thought you had all the bases covered.”

Sam didn’t reply. He picked up a stray pebble and threw it harder than necessary, sending it far past the pier until it hit the water soundlessly. Then he watched the ripples travel back, slowly making their way outward in all directions, including back toward the two of them. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“I really think we should.”

Sam cleared his throat. To his lap he said, “Remember when I was little, and you said I could tell you anything, and you’d never leave?”

Alan nodded, a grim smile coming across his face. His heartbeat had slowed back to its usual rhythm, and he felt a little calmer – the explosiveness of the moment appeared to have passed. “Yeah, your… your dad had just left, and you showed up at my house with a sleeping bag and your overnight bag, and you said you were going to sleep on my front stoop, because that was the only way you could make sure I was always going to be there. And I made you that promise. I—I meant it back then, Sam. I still do.”

Sam nodded. Another long pause before he looked out over the water, squinting at the sun bouncing off the glistening surface as he said, “You don’t have to worry about me getting girls pregnant, Alan. I’m not having that kind of sex.”

“Oh.” Alan nodded, and his mind reached immediately for oral, anal—oh, fuck. “You’re…”

“I do the dance with boys,” Sam said, and for the first time, he looked right at Alan, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. “You always told me that was OK.”

“And—and it is,” Alan nodded, swallowing hard, trying to digest this new information while staying on target for their conversation. “But you have to understand, there are still things—“

“STDs.”

“Yes.” Alan gave a quick nod. “And you can get those from things other than just straight-up sex. I saw a picture once of someone with gonorrhea of the mouth—“

“Jesus, Alan!”

“I’m serious, Sam! Will you just listen to me for one second? Please?” The last word sounded a little like he was begging, but he didn’t care. Whatever distance may have come between them in the last few years, Alan did really, truly care about Sam. “I want you to be safe. And the best way to do that is to be careful about who you sleep with. I won’t tell you that you’ll die of AIDS or some awful thing unless you’re abstinent until you find the right g—guy,” Alan took a moment’s pause – he was still adjusting to Sam’s news, just a little. “But this… ‘hooking up’? It’s how that stuff gets spread around. And I promise you that if you’re choosy about who you have sex with… you’ll enjoy it more when you do. It won’t just be a cheap thrill. It will mean something.”

Sam sighed, and his shoulder slumped as he looked back out over the water, a classic Sam move. He’d seen Alan’s point, even if he didn’t want to admit to it. Time to slowly back away from the subject, make it more light. “Has there been anyone you’re interested in? I mean, really interested – for more than just one night? Someone you’d like to date, get to know…”

Sam nodded, fidgeting just a little with his hands in his lap. “Someone,” he said quietly, and he turned his head to look at Alan as he said, “He has no idea.”

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained, my friend.”

Sam chuckled, his face lighting up, and it made Alan smile back. “That is such an old-man thing to say.” He stared at Alan for a long beat, and Alan waited out the silence, letting Sam bring the conversation around on his own terms. “Nah. It’d never work. He’s… with someone. Been with her for a long time. I don’t think he’s the slightest bit… gay.” Sam took a moment to bite his lip, almost as if he was tasting the word – as if maybe it was the first time he’d said it out loud.

“Maybe he swings both ways.”

Another long moment for consideration, Sam’s eyes glued to Alan. “No, I don’t think so,” he said at last, and then pushed himself to his feet, dusting off the back of his jeans.

“Well, you’ll find someone,” Alan assured, standing as well – though he was a little slower to get to his feet. Sam reached out with one hand to offer assistance, and Alan accepted it, letting Sam pull him up. A half a second where they were both standing and Sam didn’t – wouldn’t – let go of his hand. He never did answer Alan’s statement, and Alan just assumed the boy didn’t feel it was necessary – it wasn’t a question, after all. Just a statement of fact. “Please be careful, Sam. I—“ Alan’s breath hitched. “I care about you too much to see you fall into a bad way. I don’t want to see you get sick, and I don’t want to see you get hurt, and you’re opening yourself up to both of those things. Save it for someone who will appreciate it.” One hand fell on Sam’s shoulder. “OK?”

“Yeah, Alan. OK.” 

Sam leaned down and picked up his fishing pole and Alan stepped away, watching the boy cast his line back out into the water. Boy? He hesitated on that thought as he watched Sam, as he considered their conversation. 

No. No… Sam wasn’t a boy anymore.

But he had a long way to go before he was a man. He prayed Sam understood that now. In more ways than one.


End file.
